As the Ash Fell

by AJ Powers

  Megan was wrought with worry, more so for her brother’s well-being than her own. She didn’t feel good about it, but she knew there was nothing she could say or do that would stop him. She tried anyway.

  “Can’t we just wait here until you come back with them? It would give us extra time to pack, and that way, we could all go together.”

  “No,” he shook his head. “If I walk out of there with Kelsey and Dakota, this will be the first place they come looking. You and the kids need to be gone long before that.” Clay looked down at his watch. “And since I will be leaving for Watson’s place in the next two or three hours, it’s going to be cutting it close as it is. You have to leave in the morning.”

  Megan conceded. Despite Clay’s emotions being wrecked, he was being methodical with his approach, and she respected that. “Okay, we’ll do what we can to have everything ready tonight and head out first thing in the morning.” She repeated his instructions. She looked over at Hawthorne. “Will you be joining us?” Megan asked. Hope filling her voice.

  “Oh, I don’t know, dear,” the elderly lady said. “I am not sure my old body can make such a long journey. I would just slow you down.”

  “Well then let me change my question. Ms. Hawthorne, Bev, would you please join us?” she asked with a smile. Megan hoped she would say yes. Hawthorne was a sweet lady, and it would be reassuring to have another adult with her on the trip—someone who could help out with some of the children along the way and provide emotional support for Megan.

  Hawthorne thought about it. The trip did sound quite intimidating and not one she thought she could handle, but where else would she go? Though she would have never believed it before yesterday, Watson might kill her for her disloyalty if she were to return. And she really did love Kelsey and Dakota as her own family. Living on a farm—far away from Watson—with Kelsey, Dakota, and the others didn’t sound too bad. “Well, all right,” she said with a grin. “I would love to join you.”

  Megan smiled and went to tell the kids to start packing, bringing only what they could carry in their backpacks. Clay got out of his chair to prepare for the long night ahead of him when Hawthorne reached out and grabbed his hand.

  “Keep her safe, Clay,” she said.

  “I will. I promise.”

  Clay walked down to the armory and collected a few vital things that Megan and the others would take with them. He hated that he was going to have to leave all of the reloading equipment behind, but it was all just too heavy to lug on the 90 mile trek. If he had more time, he would dismantle the turret and move all of the components to a hidden spot to retrieve later, but time was not on his side. He wanted to be at Watson’s just after dark, and there was still a lot of preparation to do. Hopefully, the hidden door behind the vending machine would keep everything safe for a while.

  After finishing up in the armory, Clay caught up with Dusty who was packing up the bag she had just unpacked.

  “Sorry about all this,” Clay said.

  Dusty shrugged. “Don’t be, I am used to being on the move. I get it.”

  “I am not sure what Megan told you, but I am not going to be with you guys for the first leg of this trip.”

  Dusty stopped packing and looked up at him, her expression demanded an explanation.

  “Someone needs my help, so I am going to go help her first, and then we’ll all go on together.”

  “Oh, okay,” Dusty said somewhat indifferent as she continued to pack.

  “There’s one more thing,” Clay said. “I need you to watch over everyone while I am gone,” he said as he lifted the M4 sling over his head. “You ever use one of these before?”

  She shook her head.

  Clay gave her a quick rundown of the functionality, how to aim, and how to load the magazines. Her familiarity with firearms made his demonstrations easy to understand. She took the rifle from him and laid it on the floor next to her bag.

  “Thank you, Dusty. I’m glad you decided to join our family,” Clay said and messed up her hair before turning around to walk out.

  “Hey, Clay?” Dusty said, catching him just as he reached the door.

  “Yeah?” he said as he turned around to look at her.

  “Come back in one piece, okay?”

  “I will.”

  Before Clay could leave, she added, “I mean, because I won’t be there to save your butt like I always do. So you’ve gotta be extra careful.”

  Clay laughed and rolled his eyes. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

  She smiled, her round cheeks raised, causing her eyes to squint a little. She shook her head. “Nope!”

  “Be safe, Dusty.”

  Chapter 32

  “My patience is wearin’ a bit thin here, Kelsey.” Watson said as he circled around her like a lion stalking an injured gazelle. “You have everything to gain from this deal,” he added.

  Kelsey hadn’t spoken a word since Watson had Jeremy executed right in front of her eyes. She had nothing to say to him, and she knew if she even tried to talk, Watson would find some way to exploit it. She remained silent, expressionless, staring forward as if she were studying a painting on the wall.

  She had never entertained Watson’s offer, not for a moment. If for no other reason than he couldn’t be trusted. Any man willing to give a woman an ultimatum like that wouldn’t think twice about lying. But even if he did keep his word, she would never be able to live with herself. She couldn’t concede. She wouldn’t. Even if it meant losing everything.

  “I really just don’t see what the holdup is, darlin’. It’s simple. You get yourself over to Clay’s, get him to follow you, and then Silas and his men arrest Clay for murder. Then,” he paused and gave her a friendly smile. “You and your daughter walk out of here, forgiven of all your debt.” He stopped pacing and looked Kelsey right in the eyes. “Now, doesn’t that sound like a fair deal? Think about it, you and Dakota would be free to go.”

  Unbound from her restraints, Kelsey fantasized about getting a second shot at Watson, but with an armed guard standing on the other side of the room, she would only succeed in getting smacked by the butt of the shotgun. Such an attempt would only bring more pain.

  “Look, I know you think you’re protecting your boyfriend by doing this, but it’s only gonna get him killed.” Watson paused while a sinister grin eased onto his face. “And he wouldn’t be the only one.”

  Watson reached up and stroked Kelsey’s cheek with his hand. His voice softened, and he transitioned away from sociopath to a caring grandfather seamlessly. “Darlin’, this is the only way I can ensure Clay stays safe so he can be brought here to have a fair trial, the way we used to do things in this country.”

  What a load of crap, Kelsey thought. In the time she had lived on his ranch, not once did she hear of anybody accused of a crime having a fair trial. Watson was judge, jury, and executioner. “Fair trial? Just like the one Jeremy had?” Kelsey uttered without thinking.

  Stupid! She chided herself.

  Watson was quite surprised by Kelsey’s tenacity. He had grossly underestimated how difficult she would be to crack. Had he not been reveling in his successful attempt to get under her skin, he would have been offended by the first words she uttered during the interview. Watson saw a window of opportunity, and he knew just how to play it.

  “I know I told you earlier that you had a week to decide, but wheels are in motion that I can’t stop.”

  “Can’t stop or won’t stop?” Kelsey said.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Watson replied.

  Watson looked over at the guard and nodded for him to restrain Kelsey again. “You have until the morning to decide. After that, Silas and his men will storm that building with everything they’ve got. And it won’t be pretty,” he said shaking his head. “You have the power to stop a massacre.”

  The guard started walking her back to a makeshift jail cell when Watson spoke up again. “Kelsey, I’ve decided that you and your daughter are too mu
ch trouble to stay here on my ranch. So, one way or another, y’all are gonna be gone soon,” Watson said with a serious look in his eyes. “It’s up to you how that happens. Do what’s best for your family. Don’t sacrifice yourself or your daughter for this boy you hardly know. The decision is yours,” he said as he opened the door, giving her one last glance. “Think of Dakota and the bright future she could have. If you are willing to give it to her, that is.”

  Watson closed the door and walked out with a grin on his face. He had gotten to her, and he knew it. The defenses she put up could only last so long, and he had finally broken through.

  Doc was sitting at his desk in the corner of the infirmary as Watson left the cell. He glared as the old man walked by with a smirk of satisfaction visible even in the dimly lit room.

  Doc wasn’t stupid; he knew that they had been interrogating Kelsey for days. He didn’t know what they wanted—he didn’t want to—but he had never respected Watson so little since they met.

  Watson walked to the front door and opened it. “Have a good night, Doc,” he said without turning to look at him.

  A gust of wind greeted Watson from the approaching storm. Bright flashes of lightning illuminated the darkened town, giving him a glimpse of Silas walking his way.

  “Jake,” Silas said as he approached, “we need to chat.”

  “What can I do for you, Silas?” Watson said as he began walking towards his house. “Do you have enough men yet?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m still a good half dozen short. Nobody’s wanting to sign up to take on a kid with that kind of firepower for what you are offering,” Silas said sternly. “It’s barely more than what I pay my guys to take on an unarmed camp. You have to sweeten the pot.”

  “I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that, Silas.” Watson said confidently.

  “Did she agree?”

  “Not yet,” he replied, “but she will. I have no doubt about that.”

  Silas was annoyed. He didn’t trust the girl to come through on anything, and he was never supportive of the plan in the first place. Despite his protest, Watson was convinced of his negotiating skills. “And what if she doesn’t agree?” Silas asked with an edge in his voice.

  Watson sighed. “How much more would you need?”

  “Double for everyone,” he hesitated for a minute. “Triple for me.”

  “Silas,” Watson said shaking his head. “Sometimes you make me so irritated I could just kill ya.”

  Silas laughed. He knew he had that kind of effect on people, and he liked it. “So I’ll take that as a yes?”

  Watson stopped just in front of his porch and held out his hands, palms up, and felt the first drops of rain falling to the ground. “If Kelsey is not agreeable by morning, then yes, I will pay the men what they want.”

  Satisfied he had gotten his way, Silas told Watson goodnight and went back to retrieve his horse.

  Watson walked inside and headed up the stairs. He needed a stiff drink to shake off the past few days—they were among the worst in recent times. He was just glad that after tomorrow, one way or another, those that had brought so much strife to his little town would forever be gone.

  He walked into the office and flipped the light switch.

  He never saw the lights come on.

  Watson awoke a few minutes later to a throbbing pain in his head. He tried to reach up and wipe away the blood sliding down his face, but the rope wrapped around him prevented him from doing so. As his vision slowly regained focus, he saw who was sitting across the desk.

  “Evening, Jake,” Clay said.

  “Clay, always a pleasure seeing you. What brings you to the neighborhood this fine evening?” Watson said casually, as if he had not just been pistol-whipped and bound to his chair.

  “Sorry about the…” Clay said as he touched his own forehead in the same area he had struck Watson. “I just wanted to make sure I had your undivided attention.”

  Watson clenched his teeth as he began to try and muscle his way out of the ropes, but to no avail. His Peacemaker was in the top right desk drawer, but it might as well have been on the other side of the house. Clay had tied him up tight. Surrendering to his current situation, Watson sighed and licked his lips. “So what do you want?”

  “I just have two questions.”

  “Could I trouble you for a drink, first?” Watson said as he turned his head behind to look at his shelf full of various spirits. “Might make me a little more talkative.”

  Clay leaned back in the chair, one hand resting on the KSG-12 sitting across his lap while the other dangled off the edge of the armrest. “Why did you send Silas?”

  “It’s really quite simple, my dear boy. On more than once occasion, you disrespected me.”

  “I disrespected you?” Clay said in disbelief. “I disrespected you, so you sent a group of armed men to my house to come kill me and my family, and then while you were at it, steal all of our stuff?”

  Watson gave him an indifferent shrug. “We live in dark times, Clay. The kind of respect someone shows tells me whether I can trust them or not. And trust…Well that’s the difference between an enemy and an ally.”

  Clay tried to come up with a suitable response, but he had none, so he allowed silence to hang in the air. Maybe Watson truly felt threatened by him. Or maybe he just found an excuse to take Clay’s things. After hearing Watson give his side of the story, Clay no longer cared about the why.

  The sound of the rain splashing off the window and a low rumble in the distance broke the silence that still lingered in the room. The quietness might have been awkward if Clay had not been so angry. He once again wrestled with his desire for revenge, but that wasn’t his end game right now. Not yet.

  Clay shifted in his seat and leaned towards the desk, grasping the edge with his hand. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to get Kelsey and Dakota, and the three of us are going to leave your little utopia, and you’ll never see us again.”

  “Kelsey?” Watson questioned in a low growl. “That girl ain’t worth all this, Clay.”

  “Good. Then you won’t have any problem with telling me where she is so we can be on our way.”

  Watson shook his head disapprovingly. “What is it about her, Clay? I mean, I know she’s pretty and all, but…” Watson interrupted himself. “She’s damaged goods anyhow. I assure you, that little girl of hers wasn’t brought here by a stork.”

  “I’m not worried about her past, just her future.”

  “I’m just sayin’. A girl like her belongs in a bordello. Save yourself the trouble…”

  Clay sat motionless, his expression hardened as Watson’s words played back in his head. Before he consciously decided to, Clay sprang from his chair and planted a clean shot across Watson’s face.

  Clay flexed away the stiffness forced upon his knuckles by the blow to Watson’s jaw. Blood began to trail from Watson’s lip. He grunted through his gritted teeth and pursed his lips as he scowled at Clay. “Son, that was a very imprudent decision.”

  “Seemed pretty sensible to me,” Clay said with a smirk.

  “Yeah, I imagine it did,” Watson replied before spitting out the blood that had collected on his lips.

  “I’m not playing games here, Jake” Clay said as he removed his pistol from his holster and gently laid it on the desk, angling it towards Watson. “I’ll give you one chance to answer my second question: where are they?”

  Watson spit again, before he laughed. “Well, I hope you’re prepared to man up, boy, because I ain’t tellin’ you squat,” he said defiantly. He locked eyes with Clay, almost daring him to pull the trigger.

  Without a word, Clay stood up and walked around the desk. Walking past Watson, who braced for another blow to the head, Clay approached the shelf of alcohol and grabbed a bottle. He unscrewed the thin aluminum lid and held it up to his nose. He flinched as the potent smell burned his sinuses.

  Clay looked down at Watson. “H
ow about that drink?” he said as he splashed Watson in the face with the liquor.

  Watson grimaced from the sting of the alcohol on his split lip. “What are you doing?”

  “I wasn’t kidding when I said you only got one chance.”

  Clay began to pour the bottle over Watson’s head and then moved it over the desk. The bottle emptied, and Watson was sufficiently soaked. Clay dropped the bottle on the carpeted floor and walked over to the door. He stopped and turned around, brandishing a bright orange pistol.

  “Wish I could say it was nice knowing ya, Jake,” Clay said as he pulled the black hammer back on the flare gun and aimed right for Watson’s chest.

  “No!” Watson cried. “Fine! I’ll tell you where they are. I don’t want them here anyway. Just take them and be gone!” he said with a mixture of anger and fear, trembling through his voice.

  “Too late, Jake,” Clay said.

  “Please, no!” Watson began to sob.

  Clay kept the gun trained on Watson’s chest and sighed. “Fine, I will ask again. Where are they?”

  “Kelsey is in a holding cell. It’s in back of Doc’s place, across from the shop.”

  “And Dakota?”

  “Silas’s camp, southern property line.”

  “You wouldn’t be lying to me just to save your own skin, would you?” Clay said as he tightened his grip on the gun.

  “No, I swear! I’ll even take you there. Just get them and go!” The words rushed from his lips with an unspoken plea for his life.

  Watson looked frightened, probably the first time in many years. The arrogant tyrant was in a position of power that seldom put him on the losing end of a battle, yet Clay had him weeping with no inhibitions. It was quite satisfying, probably more so than it should have been.